The Age of Robotnik
by 2epx
Summary: It's finally happened. Dr. Ivo Robotnik has won. Now Sonic is gone from the face of the planet, Tails' whereabouts are unknown and Amy is doing all in her power to help a new generation grow up in a new world, desolate of hope. Then a star falls out of the sky, while a mysterious lone bandit stands against Robotnik's forces as the doctor is about to unleash his final plan.
1. A star is born

"Come on, Amy, let's go back inside, I am cold." Said a voice from somewhere below.

Amy realized she got carried away by her thoughts. And it was cold. She could feel the goosebumps on her bare arms. How long had she been standing there? This was irresponsible, the kids should have been asleep by now. And they should not be outside for this long. They could be seen.

She looked at the group. The gang, as she would think of them. Most of them were younger than six and did not remember life before wasteland. Pauline was almost nine and she remembered a bit of it. Not everything, but she remembered the green hills and the blue skies. She would also sometimes talk about the atmosphere she remembered. Atmosphere of not hiding, of not being afraid.

"Come on, Amy!" Insisted Pauline.

As Amy turned back towards the entrance to the hideout, another kid would yell with excitement:

"Yay, I think a star is falling."

A couple of years back, Amy would turn to see if it was so. But it has been a while and the world has changed. For her, things could never be the same again.

Perhaps, that night was different. Had Amy stayed for a lot longer, then, on the brink of the morning, she would see that there, in fact, was a star rapidly approaching the ground.

The monks of Mu were gathered around a crater. Brother Ulnax, their superior was bent over an object that lay in the middle. He scratched his head with bewilderment. He also made quite a few noises. A weird collection of sounds that his fellow brothers and apprentices evaluated as thoughtful meditations.

"Is it dead?" Asked young Shemneth. From the tone, it was impossible to tell whether he would preffer a positive or a negative response.

"Is it dangerous?" Asked brother Kermouth, hiding behind a small cart that they had with them.

"Is it hungry?" Wanted to know brother Ititol.

There were more thinking sound coming from Brother Ulnax and the occasional fart sound. That most have been the pressure of all the knowledge accumulated over the years, Shemneth had thought to himself.

Eventually, Brother Ulnax stepped to the side to reveal an unconscious body and ceremoniously announced:

"I believe that this fellow soul is badly hurt and will need our help."

"But brother Ulnax, sir, what if it is a devil or a demon fallen from the sky and has come to devour us and our children?" Protested brother Kermouth.

"We are monks, we don't have children." Argued Shemneth.

"True that," said brother Ititol, "at least not ones we know about."

Superior Ulnax gave him a long, scorning look. All of a sudden, brother Ititol become most interested in the cleanlines of his robe, carefully examining it for stains.

"Brother Kermouth, Brother Ititol, get our friend into the cart. Brother Shemneth, you will push the cart. We can only help the stranger and learn more about him once we are in the monastery. It is no accident that we witnessed his fall from the stars as we were approaching the end of our pilgrimage. This must be a sign."

Sign of what brother Ulnax would not say. The way brother Ititol understood it, it was a sign that it was about time they had some proper meal.


	2. A Grocery Raid

"My fellow scientists, dear academics, esteemed inventors. The time of perfection is near! Soon entropic imperfections of this world will be no more. Soon, each living organism will be paired with its perfect counter part. The whole planet will be given a new consciousness, ending the chaotic randomness of biology and replacing it with an exact and impeccable science! The world will be robotized!"

Dr. Ivo Robotnik stood on a small podium in the middle of his large office that looked more like a throne room of some ancient emperor or barbarian king. To his right stood a dark steel silhouette, his most perfect creation which also acted as his personal guard. Dr. Robotnik was wearing a head mirror and a white lab coat - the latter was also worn by almost everyone in the room. A hunched figure joined Dr. Robotnik on the stage and spoke into the microphone:

"The world factories operate at 82% and are steadily increasing their capacity. At this rate, it should take us only a few weeks to be able create an electrical network between them, that will enable us to energise the planet and induce the process of transformation."

He paused and coughed.

"In the name of our little scientific community, I would like to thank the brightest of minds, Dr. Ivo Robotnik for being a stalwart of progress."

He coughed again.

"Fart on progress? A senile voice asked in the crowd." Other voices hushed him to silence. The scientist on the stage regained control of his voice.

"We would like to take this opportunity to review production plans for the upcoming weeks and..."

Before he could finish a siren went off in the room and the man monitors positioned around them displayed a breach in one of the factories.

"Warning, intruder detected! Repeat intruder detected." Announced a robotic voice on the speaker.

The dark silhouette next to Dr. Robotnik moved forth. The doctor noded and it dashed forward towards the room's exit, striking some scientists aside like bowling pins.

"He must have eaten something truly bad." The senile voice said.

A hooded figure was rushing across a yard. Alarms were blaring and there was not enough time. The entrance to the factory was open - it never closed, but now two robotic figures were barring the way. Arms raised, they had their weapons pointed towards the intruder.

The hooded figure growled and sped up. A mallet came somewhere out of its robes. The robotic guards opened fire too late. The figure spun, avoiding all the shots. Two hollow sounds evidenced destruction of two knee joints. Two further hits led to dismantling of breast panels, revealing small creatures strapped inside.

"Go." The hooded figure said, freeing them.

Dr. Herford did not know what to do. He was in charge of operations in facility 71. He has been in charge for years now and it was a dull, uneventful job. Programming of conveyor belts, overseeing production cycles, ensuring continuous growth when it came to potential energy output of the complex. Dr. Herford liked his jobs, as he liked machines and relished the slow, peaceful routine of his days. But now, there was an intruder in the facility. The good doctor could not find anything routine about that, let alone peaceful. Where would he hide? He assumed that the intruder was probably after the most valuable thing in the facility - the central processing unit in the control room. He tried hiding under his chair in that very room, but after a couple of seconds that seemed like eternity, he evaluated that the level of cover provided was unsatisfactory. Quickly, he found his way to the least interesting room in the building. The kitchen. As he reached the large freezer, adamant in his resolve to hide inside, no matter the cost, he ran into a hooded figure, wielding a sizeable mallet.

"Mercy!" Dr. Herford fell to his knees.

"Mercy!" He pleaded again.

"Ketchup!" The hooded figure replied.

"Please, don't." The doctor was convinced that what the hooded vigilante was saying is that they were going to apply the gigantic mallet to the poor doctors body, resulting in production of, well, ketchup.

"I already got all the vegetables and potatoes, I just need ketchup." Dr. Herford noticed two large bags near the hooded figure.

"Ah, certainly. It is in the fridge. Take as much as you need, please."

"Thanks, hold this for me, will ya?" The intruder threw their mallet at the doctor who fumbled, but managed to catch it in the end. He watched in disbelief as the figure opened the fridge and bent over to search the many drawers there were.

This was his chance, he realized, lifting the mallet above his head. As Dr. Herford tensed muscled in his arms to smash the intruder on the head, he felt a strain in his back and froze in his movement.

"Heavier than it looks, eh?" The intruder was now standing upright, hugging about a dozen bottles of ketchup. "Never lift it above your head if you don't have a momentum. You should get some ice for your back. Will be fine in a week or so."

With that, the figure has dumped the bottles into one of the bags, hid the mallet somewhere within the robes, grabbed the bags and had left.

Dr. Herford could not move. He was resting both of his palms against his lower back, hoping to regain his mobility.

Suddenly, there was a another figure next to him. This time, there was no hood. It was a huge steel statue of a hedgehog, only it moved. Red eyes, that looked like burning furnaces turned towards Dr. Herford. "Where is the intruder and what did they want?"

"Gone, their gone now." Mumbled Dr. Herford. "And... well, it seems like they were interested in... ketchup."

A giant hand reached out, lifted a large kitchen table and smashed it against the floor in anger.

"Failiure," it said "is unacceptable."


	3. Angels and Demons

"We think it could be an angel." Said brother Shemneth with his mouth full.

The dining hall was full of monks - it was, after all the dinner time. The modest life of self-denial applied to everything but food in the monastery. The long dull days of serving, well, whatever it was the monks were serving after Robotnik revolution, were evened out by voluptuous breakfasts and dinners.

Bringing a new face to the monastery, especially in these uncertain times, has certainly raised some interest. As much as they could, monks of Mu were gathered around, not to miss anything that helped to break the drab routine.

"But angels have these, whatchacallthem, wings, see. There are no wings on this one." Brother Ititol was feasting on two turkey drumsticks at once. The pilgrimage has certainly taken a toll on his diet.

"Then it has to be a demon! There is no altenative" Brother Kermouth spewed cabbage across the table in his vigour.

"Demon castaway, you mean?" A random voice in the crowd asked.

"Yes, yes, a castaway, I presume. Most dangerous!" Said brother Ititol threateningly holding a raised turkey bone in his right hand and reaching out for a pear dumpling with the other.

A crowd wave of nervousness rolled around the room.

"How do you mean, dangerous?" Asked a voice.

"Dangerous," started brother Kermouth, carefully studying a small chocolate muffin with a cherry at the top that he just took away from brother Ititol's queue of food,"as in life and existence threatening. If this is a true demon that has entered the grounds of our pious community, then I think we can expect nothing less but the most savage of behaviours."

"Like what?" Asked someone who did not seem to buy into it.

"Brother Kermouth means like strange things starting to occur around here. Like things disappearing first, food for example, then, monks disappearing too. Brother after brother. During a morning clean-up, afternoon walk, evening tea. More and more bodies will become missing until one day, the remaining few will realise that they are alone, alone in the monastery with a demonic force on the prowl." Said brother Ititol.

"A bloodthirsty monster, unseen horror. This, this may be the end of us, brothers!" Exclaimed brother Kermouth, who was now standing with one foot on the bench and the other on top of the table.

"For all we know, it could be hidden amongst us even now!" Shrugged brother Ititol.

That did it. Tables and chairs alike were toppled and organised like barricades around the perimeter of the room. A robe could be seen here and there, but for the most part, the monks were carefully maintaining cover.

The trio of pilgrims, looked around each other surprisingly.

"It does not seem to be here, so where is it, then?" Some of the barricaded monks demanded.

"In the infirmary, comatose." Said brother Shemneth.


	4. The Hideout

_Note from the author: I apologise, but I messed up the order of chapters. This was previously chapter 3 and is now chapter 4, so some of you may have read this one already, but be sure to backtrack to Chapter 3 "Angels and Demons" not to miss out on content. Sorry about the confusion!_

"Can I have some more ketchup?" Asked Polly. She had a squeaky voice the way children do, especially if they are asking for something that they have already had a lot of and it is not exactly good for their health.

"Me too, please!" Asked Pauline.

"Catch awp!" Shouted Louie looking up from his bowl. In his case, the lack of ketchup was not an issue. The problem was, that most of the ketchup given to Louie seemed to have found its way everywhere, but Louie's mouth.

The other two kids, Molly and Dan were sitting close to each other, reading from pages of the same book.

"Of course, here you go!" Amy poured a wealthy ration of ketchup into each bowl. She understood. You can only eat so many potatoes, but there is no end to how much ketchup you can devour.

She got back to her table. There were papers all over it. Not small sheets that people write on or draw, but poster-sized blueprints and plans. Despite of what Robotnik's henchmen felt, most factories held nothing that was particularly special or valuable. Certainly not factory 72. The important factories were the ones that were able to output more than all the others combined. And that which granted them the power. These were factories 2 through 8, as Amy knew. By now she was able to secure their floor plans. But she still had to memorise them to be able to navigate them quickly by heart when it came to it. Finally, she also had to figure out where they were located. Knowing a place is not much good at all, if you don't know where that place is. Her shoulders sagged. The progress was too slow. They will need more time. The time that Ivo Robotnik will not provide her with.

She sighed and rolled up the plans and blueprints. She let the kids know it's bedtime and helped them to clean up after the dinner, which mostly meant washing small Louie and all his clothes and making sure everyone got their jammies on the right way and that everyone's teeth were brushed. Eventually, everyone has found their way to bed. Pauline sleeping in a bunk above Polly, Dan sleeping in a bunk under Molly and Louie was wrapped up to the chin in his blankets in the large bed he shared with Amy. He was still too little to sleep on his own, especially since most nights he got woken up by nightmares.

"Ok, gang, what are we doing for a bedtime story today?" Asked Amy. She knew this was the last chore of the day. After that, she will finally have a minute to her own.

"Tell us about Sonic." Said Pauline.

"Yes, about Sonic!" Cheered Polly.

"Soneek, Soneek." Chanted Louie.

Amy threw a quizzical look at Molly and Dan. They were both nodding vehemently.

"All right, then." Said Amy and sat down in a comfy recliner.

"Not that many years ago, there, somewhere about green hills, lived a hedgehog. His name was Sonic, but he was also knows as the blue streak, as that was all you could see of his blue spines when he was running."

"Boo treak!"Giggled Louie.

"He was the fastest of them all. But he was also kind and good humoured. True, he would mock his friends from time to time or act with a certain amount of bravado. But he never caused any harm."

"He was so cool!" Whispered Dan to Molly.

"Then one day, Dr. Ivo Robotnik has arrived on this planet."

The room was somewhat dark now, as it only had one candle providing light. Mere mention of the evil doctors name caused shuffling of sheets. The children made sure that all parts of their bodies remained under the sheets. And if they could, they would submerge their noses and heads under the safety of the warm blankets too.

"He sought to capture all animals and living forms and have them power his robotic inventions. For he was convinced that only reason alone can stand as the governing factor of our behaviour. Needs, emotions, our life experience - all that was nothing to him. He perceived others simply as batteries to his automated servitors."

"He is so evil!" Pauline shouted. Other kids quickly agreed.

"But Sonic was brave and thwarted Robotnik's malicious schemes over and over. He taught us to value our freedom and to resist all attempts at curbing it."

"Yeah, Sonic was too fast for Robotnik!" Said Molly.

"And he had the power of magical emeralds." Said Polly.

"And he had the power to turn super sonic!" Shouted Dan.

Louie just giggled. Then, everyone was quiet for a while. Amy could hear the regular breathing coming from Louie's bunk, Polly's bunk and Molly's and Dan's bunks too.

"Amy," Asked Pauline. "Where is Sonic now?"

"Six years ago, Robotnik has lured Sonic into a trap and shot him out into the space." Said Amy in a slow hollow voice.

"Ouch. That's horrible. And so we keep hiding, waiting for Sonic to come back and save us, right?" For children, everything can be so easy.

"Yeah, I am sure, he is. Sleep now, there is much to be done tomorrow."

The candle was all but gone now. It was for the better as Pauline did not have to see Amy's tears.


	5. The Assassins

It was fairly early in the morning as three hunched figures approached the infirmary. The first figure laid hand on the doorknob. The second figure nervously looked around. The third figure tripped.

It took a while for the dust inside the room to settle.

"Brothers!" Superior Ulnax was sitting right next to the bed.

Red-faced, the three demon-fighters stood back to back, laughing nervously. They did not expect anyone to be here.

"So nice of you to have come visit our guest! And before breakfast at that! Most commendable."

"Erm, yes, we were truly worried, father Ulnax." Said brother Shemneth.

"We thought that our first-aid expertise might be needed." Said brother Kermouth, hiding a hammer under his robes.

Superior Ulnax outstretched his hands in a welcoming gesture.

"So kind of you all. Ah, brother Ititol, is that a spike a see you holding behind your back?"

"No, sir, that would be a," Ititol thought for a moment. The effort was almost audible. " Just a sturdy toothpick. Had quite a big dinner, didn't I?"

"He did, he did." Chanted brother Kermouth and Shemneth in unison.

In fact, brother Kermouth pronounced it more like "He dioaaauch!"

"Brother Kermouth, did a hammer just drop from your robes straight onto your toe?"

"Err, yes, father Ulnax. I was about to do a little bit of gardening before we eat."

"With a hammer?" Asked superior Ulnax.

The other two monks rolled their eyes.

"Yes, yes, gardening. Perhaps building a little birdhouse or such." Said brother Kermouth, who was now tending to his toe.

"Always such a selfless character, our brother Kermouth." Said superior Ulnax. "Now, why don't we take a look at how our guest is doing?"

"Our demon, you mean." Said brother Shemneth before the others could stop him. He then proceeded to shriek, clutching his bottom with his hand.

"A Demon?" Father Ulnax raised his eyebrows.

"Phantom, to be more precise. Brother Shemneth meant to say that he has a phantom pain is his leg. It has been plaguing him for days now." Brother Ititol explained, still holding the sharp spike.

Brother Shemneth was now openly weeping and father Ulnax patted him on the back compassionately. Brother Kermouth's gaze fell on the one occupied infirmary bed.

"Look at those spines!" He said.

"Razor sharp, I bet." Said brother Ititol.

The word "sharp" triggered an outcry from brother Shemneth.

"Well, brother, I believe that our patient here, is a hedgehog." Announced father Ulnax.

"A hedgehog?" Brother Ititol repeated.

"Of course." Said father Ulnax. "I understand that the outside world has changed quite a bit in the recent years. Only the solace of our splendid isolation has protected the order of Mu from what took place when the evil doctor took over."

"Evil doctor? As in the kind that forbids you to eat all the tasty food?" Brother Ititol tightened his grip on the spike. No one was going to take his food away. Of that he was sure.

"Or the kind that makes you do a lot of exercise?" Shied at the thought.

"Or the kind that stabs you with sharp objects?" There was no stopping to brother Shemneth's suffering now.

"Much worse, I am afraid." Said father Ulnax. From the faces of the three other monks, it was obvious that he was now operating outside the realm of their imagination.  
"The kind that experiments on the living and seeks to subvert the natural order of things. The very peace of creation itself. The destruction of Mu."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, a cough.

"It wasn't me." Said brother Ititol.

"Or me." Said brother Kermouth.

Brother Shemneth shook his head vigorously. Father Ulnax slowly turned to the infirmary bed. The hedgehog was now sleeping on his side.

"This is a sign that our guest is getting better. We can expect him to wake up soon. Then, we will learn more about his fate."

"But who is he?" Asked brother Kermouth.

Father Ulnax shrugged.

"Well, based on his looks, I am calling him Blue."


	6. The Promethean Act

Getting to Factory 8 was not as difficult as Amy thought. The plant itself was located in the suburbs of Robotnikopol. Gargantuan chimneys spewing black oily clouds defined the drab scenery of the city and lined up it's perimeter like a toxic crown. In it's centre stood steel grey-dark cupolas in which an army of scientists took shifts to propose further advancements for the greater glory of robotization. Set against the evening sky defined by its fading light, the whole scenery brought about the image of a giant pus wound. One that Amy had no idea, how to remove.

Here she was, willing to try anyway. She made her way inside the object by secretly boarding a self-driving train which was delivering raw materials from the country to the factories, ceaselessly travelling back and forth. The carriage must have been making its journey for years now, becoming an uncaring witness to the transformation of the countryside. A complex mapping of rails sprawled across much of the planet, enabling the redistribution of mass as needed. On her ride to the factory, the train that Amy hijacked had stopped at a several smaller stations, where some of the load was taken off the train, and more carriages were added. No sentient beings were involved in the process, but Amy would hide herself under an undercarriage anyway, not to be spotted by one of the electrobees patrolling the sky. From her hideout she could hear the letting of steam, creaking of iron and steel and other noises the loading crane mechanism would produce under stress. It was almost as if the material itself suffered in this world devoid of life.

Amy's arrival to the site itself was equally uneventful. When the train has reached the storage depo, automated cranes immediately began unloading of delivered materials on series of conveyor belts that carried them somewhere further into the depths of the factory. Amy hopped off the train, carefully avoiding the mechanical tentacles and hot steam. She easily found her way into one of the ventilation shafts. She was in now. But that was the easy part. Obtaining what she came for might just be impossible.

She had memorised all of the blueprints and was trying to orient herself. The ventilation system represented the best way to traverse the facility and was almost guaranteed to contain no threat. Perhaps a stray robot, nothing she could not deal with, she thought as her hand subconsciously felt for the mallet under her robes.

In practice, however, there was a reason for caution in the ventilation shafts. She soon learned that there were apertures through which excessive air or heat were lead away from the facility. These usually came at strong gusts, appearing in regular intervals, allowing Amy to get across with a well timed jumping. For once she found herself hoping Ivo Robotnik's servants have done their job dutifully. One irregularity in the timing of those gusts could mean her early demise.

Ventilation lattices were another regularity, once which had two different functions when it came to Amy. One, they represented a measure of her progress towards the center of the facility, and, two, they allowed her the occasional peak into the life inside. The closer she got, the less she saw of the elaborate process of production and more she encountered the hands and brains behind the operation of the facility. This included guard bots, technicians, administrators, overseers of all types and scientists.

It did not take long for her to start to feel nauseated. By now, she must have been inside the facility for at least an hour and she has taken countless turns one way or another. She was not quite lost, but she felt her whole being urging her to get out of there, into a larger and brighter space, where she could feel she could breathe more easily. That was not to be. Even if she was able to leave the ventilation shafts after a few more turns and several hundred steps, the opening she needed to take led onto one of the conveyor belts and took her into the heart of the facility. Here, layers of platforms and conveyor belts were moving and shifting back and forth in what had at first seemed as an erratic manner to her. Landing on one of the conveyor belts she had to maintain her balance and footing, while avoiding whatever materials were transported, and occasional gusts of steam and hot air, that passed through here on their way to the ventilation systems. Amy made a series of jumps to traverse closer to the shifting platforms. Each of the jumps rewarded her with a look at the liquid hot steel below the conveyor belts. As she hopped onto the nearest platform, she had lost her footing and slipped over the edge.

Thud. The head of the mallet held against the edge of the platform, as Amy hung from one hand above the lava. Not good, she thought. Carefully, she had pulled herself up along the length of the shaft. It took all her willpower to restrain herself from making a quick move just to get back up faster. Such move could result in success but it could also unsettle the mallet and lead to her fall. So instead, she pulled herself up by a palms length at a time, switching hands, until she was finally able to grab onto the platform. Once there, she collapsed, breathing hard. She knew this would be harder than any of her prior raids, but perhaps this was more taxing than she was able to handle. She thought about everything she carried on her shoulders those days. Foraging for food, providing for the children, struggling to provide them with education and games to keep their minds occupied and shielded from the reality of their everyday lives. Spending the nights as a vigilante pretending its the old days. But it wasn't the old days. It wasn't anything like it. Sonic was gone and Tails was gone and Amy was alone, trying to fill more than one pair of shoes at once. This all was really hard on her.

An eruption of steam not far from her disrupted her thoughts. Well, now she was here, wasn't she? And she could either press forward or go back, but one thing she could not do was stay here. Here, she was no good to anyone. Slamming her hammer into the platform to vent the frustration she stood up and got ready to go on.

It took a couple of jumps to get to the top of the large space. There she found what she was looking for - a hidden service shaft not documented in the blueprints but one she knew had to be there. At the end of it, she found what she came for.

"Dr. Robotnik!" A scientist shouted from his chair in the large hall - Ivo Robotnik's throne room. He was about to announce what everyone in the room already new from the monitors. "We have a critical breach at facility number 8. Somebody stole a Chaos Emerald."


	7. Steel and Iron

Professor Phil Badger still remembered when he was teaching a class, repeating the same lectures and sentences year after year to an audience of faces that would come and go. He would spend his afternoons reviewing student's work or in calm discussions with colleagues. It was a quiet job where some things could never ever happen.

Like staring at a robed figure holding a giant mallet.

The red alarms lights were on and professor Badger could not say he was exactly fond of the blaring noise that resounded throughout the facility. The one benefit of his current situation was that he had found himself _outside _of the central room, while the robed figure was on the inside. What professor Badger was pondering right now was whether the glass between him and the armed intruder was shatterproof.

He saw the figure lift the mallet over the head and then...

No. The glass held. But now that he thought about it, it probably wasn't shatterproof. He witnessed another attempt and then another one. The glass held. This was interesting, at least, speaking from a purely scientific view, of course.

Professor Badger scratched his head. Another hit to the glass, no success. The professor took a paper and a pencil out of the drawer of his table and started scribbling some small notes. Let's say this was a grade 7 industrial toughened glass. Considering a wooden mallet with a head of a certain perimeter, professor Badger looked up and seized up the hammer as a painter would - using his outstretched thumb as a measure, then given the material of the glass, its area, the angle of the impact, estimated power of the strike.

That was it! Professor Badger ran over to the door, unlocked them and stuck his head into the room.

"Excuse me," he said. "I think I know what is wrong here."

The figure ceased its assault on the glass and pondered.

"What?" It asked after a while.

"I think it is the angle. You see, if you hit with the mallet straight on, then, given that you have a fairly wide mallet and its material, the force of the impact gets distributed fairly evenly across the surface, lessening the effect of your blow."

"Uh-uh."

"So what I would suggest, if I may, would be to strike at the glass in such a manner that the smallest possible part of the tool impacts the glass, concentrating the power and focus into a very small area, increasing chances of success. Do you care to try?"

"I guess."

"Good. I will be taking notes." Said professor Badger. Then he closed and locked the door again. Science was beautiful.

He watched as the figure measured the strike for a bit, then pulled back and then.

"Eureka!" Shouted professor Badger as the glass rained down all around him. The figure climbed through the open hole.

"This was great, thanks! I think it would have taken me a lot longer to figure this out on my own."

"Ah, that was nothing. Now off you go and don't forget to do your homework."

Old habits die slow and if it were up to professor Badger, he would still be teaching. But with Ivo Robotnik's idea of progress being forced upon the world, there was not much need for that, as soon, everything will be automated, calculated, predicted, planed and orchestrated.

Professor Badger sighed. He really did love a good experiment.

It did not take Amy long to get to get back to the automated trains. Granted, it was not as easy as traversing the ventilation shafts. There was an occasional guard bot or five and at one time a security laser caught her of guard and burned her arm. It was just a flesh wound though. It would be impossible to use the same sentence to describe the state in which she left the laser in. Let's just say a very skilled watchmaker would probably still put it together, given enough slow evening. But even then, the laser would probably suffer some nightmares and PTSD.

"This wasn't that difficult." Though Amy as she had hoped on one of the automated trains that was just departing the station. She allowed herself to sit down, lean against one of the cargo crates and just watch the sky. It has been a long day and she was hoping to catch a glimpse of a star or two. Although she knew this would not be possible. Not here, not this close to the city and the factories. At least she could watch the cargo cranes go back and forth...

Wait. The cranes were supposed to pass by, not go back and forth. Something was wrong with the train. Amy leaned to the side of the train and looked back towards the last carriage.

"Oh no. Pinch me!" She cursed.

A steel tower of a monster was pulling the last carriage in tow, its massive power working against that of the train.

This was not the first time Amy saw a steel hedgehog. Ivo Robotnik has harboured a lasting fascination with creating a robotic version of Sonic as his ultimate weapon. All to prove a simple point that anything could be robotised and made far superior to the nature's original. Robotnik's early creations were far from perfect and Sonic would eventually overcome all of them. Yet Dr. Robotnik never ceased his efforts to iterate on his previous attempts. Amy was quite sure that the monster she saw now was the same one that had cast Sonic into the outer space. Only back then, it would be a mere prototype - a bare mechanical skelet, with wires about. Unimpressive, but overwhelming in its power and brutal efficiency.

What towered behind the train now was a 5 meter tall mass of steel. Hydraulic legs were covered in pistons and let out steam as the giant machine-muscles contracted with each step to pull the train further back towards the factory. It's torso was diamond shaped and slightly bent forward. It was made for speed. Massive arms had digger-like claws that looked like they could cut the train's traverses in half if need be. And on top of that a massive round head with razor sharp spikes where sonic had spines. But worst of all were the eyes.

Hypnotic eyes of crimson red and satin black - their surface never stayed the same. Patterns were forming and breaking like waves around the nose. They were hypnotic, mesmerising... Amy remembered the eyes. That was how she knew that this was the same creature that had destroyed her world, had taken all her friends away from her and now it came for her too.

"Pinch me." She said again, before she grabbed her mallet and hopped off the train.


	8. To Traverse the Universe

"Where am I?" Sonic opened his eyes. Everything was hazy. It was not that he could not feel his body, it was as if the connection was almost too faint to last.

"Relax, you are safe and in care of the brothers of Mu, you are in our monastery infirmary now." Sonic could not make the shape. He could not see clearly enough. He stopped trying, closed his eyes and rested his head.

"I am tired." He uttered.

"Tired?" A new voice said.  
"You slept for six days straight. Whatever got you exhausted must have been some extraordinary feat."

"Running. I was running." Sonic remembered now, but his memories were inconsistent. He remembered the dark and cold around him. And his legs moving, running really fast, as fast as only he was able to run. But the blue sphere in front of him never seemed to get any closer.

"Technically, it looked closer to falling." Another voice said. A burly one. The words were muffled as if the speaker was chewing food.

"Shhh. That was what we saw, what he talks of must have come before." Another voice said.

"Don't you dare shush me, Shemneth. I know what I saw. He fell like a brick. Boom." Said the burly voice.

"Crashing would be even more accurate." Said yet another voice, this one was quite high pitched.

"Definitely not running." The burly voice said.

"Yes," argued the high pitched voice. "What we saw was not running, but what the demo... our friend here says is that before... ouch!"

"Brother Shemneth, do you feel the phantom pain again?" This was the voice that spoke first. It bore more authority than the other ones.

"The spike pain you mean?" Cried brother Shemneth through his clenched teeth.

"You mean _the toothpick_ pain, correct?" Asked the burly voice. There was some sort of threat in its tone.

"Well, we can safely conclude that there was no running, whatsoever." Said the high pitched voice.

Sonic did not follow all that. He felt he was phasing out every few seconds. He spoke as the images appeared in his mind:

"Running... I was running for six years."

"Nonsense," said the high pitched voice. "That is technically impossible. You could not even lie down for six years."

"I could if I had enough to eat." The burly voice said.

"I will, if I see any more sharp objects around me." Said a pained voice.

"I saw the sun go round. And I counted... 2.000 times..." Upon that, sleep took over the exhausted patient.

The room went quiet. Everyone was trying to do the math in their head.

"Technically, that is only five years, you are a couple of days... ouch!" Cried brother Shemneth.

"Jolly good run I say." Said the high-pitched voice.

"Do you think it could be true?" Said the burly voice.

"I am afraid so, my brothers. We have to be patient and wait for our guest to feel better to know more. But it seems like there is quite a story."

There was a brief moment of silence. Everyone was trying to imagine themselves in space, running.

"Do you think he is one of them people?" Said the burly voice.

"What people?" Asked the high pitched one.

"Whachacallem... Cosplaynauts." Said the burly voice.

"I am sure this is not how it is pronoun... ouch."

"Oh, you mean Cosmashnauts." Said the high pitched voice.

"Not that either. More like Cosm-oh-naughts, I think." Said the burly voice.

"That sounds right. One of them ah-venturers who travel between the planktons." Said the high pitched voice.

"That sounds right too. Look, all this deep philosophy has made me hungry. I think it is about lunchtime. Let's get some food."

"You go, dear brothers." Said the fatherly voice.  
"I will spend some more time with our guest here."

When the three figures have left, father Ulnax sighed. They were all good brothers, but sometimes it would do them good to travel the world and meet other people.


	9. The Railway Battle

Amy's plan was to hide under the carriages. If you are small and are fighting a colossal foe, it is advisable to make your own rules and Amy knew that. The first part of her plan was quite smart in that regard. The second part… wasn't there.

Amy ran under, half-crouching, half-bent below the carriages, with gravel hitting her face and hands all of the time and the occasional steam or hot water hitting her eyes. That was the easy part, though. Keeping up with the rhythm of the beams so as not to trip made it more difficult. The real trouble, though, was the dinosaur of a metal hedgehog that was stomping alongside the train and randomly lifting carriages, smashing its giant hand underneath to crush its target. This was the true russian roulette - run beneath a moving train at a high speed, while guessing which carriage is the one that will remain, so that you don't get crushed. And of course - you don't control the trigger. A psychotic giant robot does.

A large carriage fell back onto the tracks right behind Amy, side-wheeled for a short while and then got reset on the tracks. She threw a quick glimpse to her right side, where two enormous metal shoes were tearing up ground as a spade. As long as she was parallel with those, she was in danger. Her first instinct was to speed up, but eventually, she decided to do the opposite. Decreasing her pace, she let the train advance for as long until she was under the last carriage. This one was already inspected, so to speak, by the giant hand and should provide her with a semblance of respite.

She maintained her pace and thought about what her options were. Had there been forest around, she could just hop off the rail and get lost in the trees. But the desolate land around the rail offered little opportunity to hide. Amy doubted that she could outrun her opponent. Thinking about her situation, she watched as the giant hand lifted the wagons ahead of her, one by one. There was never any reaction from the creature, no sign of anger or disappointment when the striking hand did not find its target. Without a shrug, it proceeded to carry out the same action with the next part of the train. Steady, methodical and in an unchanging rhythm.

It did not take long for the steel servant of Robotnik to work through all of the train. Unphased that it failed to discover its target, it maintained speed alongside the train for a while and then started falling back.

"I really hope it gives up." Amy thought. And for a moment it looked like it. The train locomotive was getting farther and farther ahead of the creature and Amy was ready to wave goodbye as once again she found the heavy shoes parallel to herself. Instead, there was a terrifying noise as one hand clawed into the body of the last carriage from above and the left got raised up.

Amy's thoughts were racing. If one hand was clutching the wagon, but was not lifting it and the other was about to strike.

"Oh my god." Amy leaned forward and summoned all her speed.

"Come on, shoes, move it!" She screamed at her own feet as she accelerated her pace. Mind can be a funny thing - especially in how it affects the way we perceive time. Found yourself in a boring hour long wait? You can bet that every second is going to feel like minutes. Have a giant metal sonic fist falling down on the carriage you are under and just about smash you to death as you are trying to outrun it and save your hide? Well, hopefully you don't mind everything going slo-mo so that you have the time to enjoy the scenery. And what a scenery Amy saw. As she was very slowly nearing the carriage connection point, her view opened up and she could see the large figure with dark red hypnotic eyes. She could feel those eyes burning right through her. The fist that was falling right on her head seemed to almost come to a pause in mid-air…

And then everything happened at once. Amy jerked forward, the hand came down, the last carriage got smashed and disjointed from the train. Amy would have sworn she could feel the sparks that were produced by the friction of the metal fist and the rails burn her calves.

This was no longer a russian roulette. This was a russian roulette where you load a new bullet into the gun after each round. Amy was quick to realize that, regardless of the effort, how tired she felt or what little energy she had left, she had to keep running, running real fast, that was, if she were to stay alive.

As if in an unending nightmare that you can't wake up from, the monster proceeded to smash carriage after carriage, wagon after wagon and Amy still did not have a plan. She could really feel every step by now and was pondering whether to drop the hammer. It would be easier to run without it. Yet at the same time, and despite knowing how unlikely it was that she would stand any chance of outfighting the creature, she felt reluctance in letting go of her only mean of protection. Maybe later.

The crash seemed even louder than the previous ones, as the giant fist fell on the last carriage and turned it into a crumpled heap of iron and steel. Now it was just the locomotive. And Amy was tired of running. If she were to be smashed by a giant fist, so be it, better than to be smashed by a giant fist and a train. She grabbed a handle on the side of the locomotive and hopped on. Following the hand-holds she quickly climbed up. Of course, there was no cabin in an automated train, but the roof had at least provided her with an open view. A pleasant change after spending hours running under a train, amongst the gravel and steam. In the distance behind the locomotive, she could barely make out the lights of the factory complex - her target destination from earlier that night. On her right, across from the menacing robot was an open land, desolate and wounded by all the mining work, but also defiant in its solace. A land that had suffered yet could still flourish, given the necessary care and an industrious effort. And, she turned, ahead of the train was…

"Oh, look. A tunnel!"

Amy knew how this was going to end now - this was a classic after all. She is going to duck at just the right moment, so that both she and the train will make it into the tunnel, while the big ugly boss baddie will smash itself on the side of the mountain. As far as Amy was concerned, that worked.

"Hey, big thing!" Amy shouted.

"Are you thinking what I am thinking?"

In short, the answer was no. The bottom side of a giant open palm struck the rails just in front of the train and Amy realized that her escape plan was not going to work out. Not unless both she and the train can find a way to somehow move themselves through a steel curtain wall that was between them and the tunnel entrance. Now, come to think about it, that tunnel entrance was perhaps too close and coming nearer. Amy jumped.

The train she had been on just a second ago, of course, crashed. With a screeching noise so unbearable Amy had to cover her ears, the train wedged itself between the rails, the tunnel and the metal palm.

The creature pointed it's hypnotic gaze towards Amy and tried to jerk its hand free from the crash site, without success. Amy realized that the brief moment of hesitation from the creature, the nanosecond in which the red eyes averted their gaze from Amy in favour of the immobilised limb, that that very moment, was all the chance she was going to get. She jumped off the side of the mountain above the tunnel straight onto the metal arm, ran all the way up to the gigantic spiky shoulder, used the collar bone of the monster as a vantage point and put all of the remaining power of her legs into the jump. Airborne, she lifted her mallet above her head and, with a pent-up cry of frustrated anger, she smashed her mallet right into the creatures red right eye.

The creature cramped. It's limbs shaking for a brief moment it took its computer brain to realize that a critical flaw took place in its design. Then, it smashed itself into the head. Needless to say that its designer did not account for a case of self-harm. The neck joints gave way and the giant head rolled off.

By that time, Amy was already inside the tunnel and creating distance between herself and the thing. If this was a victory, she would celebrate it later on, once she was safe.


	10. Broken Toys

It was not a good day to be a scientist in service of Dr. Robotnik. And as all scientists were serving the good doctor then, let's say, it just wasn't a good day to be a scientist.

"How is this even possible?" Steamed Ivo Robotnik, as a large group of scientists - couple hundred - were huddled around a large steel titan, now lying motionless on it's back in a large engineering hall.

While there are probably many different methods to fix a broken robot, they all seemed to be employing a new type of approach. Had it had a name, it would have to be something like "the ostrich repair method". An excerpt from imaginary instruction manual would read:

_When attempting to repair a weapon of mass destruction in the presence of a psychotic leader whose sole ambition is to dominate the world and replace organic life forms with machines, and while the said psychotic leader is an owner, or sees himself as a father figure to the said weapon, during all phases of the job, make sure your head stays tucked inbetween your shoulders and bowed as low as possible. Where necessary, stick your nose right into your work so that you don't have to make eye contact. Failiure to adhere to the procedure above may result in: stern scolding, being robotized, death, painful death, prolonged painful death, torture eternal. _

Since no one offered any sort of answer or reaction whatsoever, Dr. Robotnik went on:

"An early prototype Metal Sonic - or as I like to call it - Le Weapon Metallique - or - as it has been known - The Vanquisher of the Green Hill Zone - was able to cast my sworn enemy, whose name must not be spoken and whose sole memory must be eradicated from existence, into the outer space. And you are telling me that some of the so call "Forest Resistance" were able to defeat it? We are talking creatures I took everything from. What Forest Resistance is there without a forest? I took that from them. They must be more like the desolate bunch by now! How many could there be? One, two, three? And they can do this? THIS?"

Ivo Robotnik smashed his fists into a steel table desk that was upheld by four small robots instead of legs. Two of those have exploded as a result of the impact. Third took a moment to process the situation and then decided to trigger the self-destruction protocol, leading to its quick demise. The final one, however, took too long. It's red, green and blue diodes cast a confused stare at the creator.

"Die!" Screamed Robotnik.

The robot finally understood. It needed to run the self-destruct code sequence. But where was the code… The memory must have been faulty. Running through its memory banks, it finally identified a small group of code commands - less than seven billion - that were most likely to apply and decided to run one of them.

"Happy Birthday, Doctor Ivo, Happy Birthday, to you." Sang the robot along to the music coming out of its speakers, while its small belly display was showing candles, cakes and fireworks. By the time, one would be about to blow the candles, the robot had realized its error, found the right piece of code and exploded. Robotnik kicked its empty shell with a grunt. The scientists said nothing. All were being very industrious about their current task. It looked like some may have glued their noses to the metal body.

"This will not stand." Ivo Robotnik towered above the hunched scientists, his moustache buzzing with rage induced electricity.

"Our plan will be accelerated! You all have two weeks to fix the Metal Sonic and to unleash my utmost creation upon the world! Bring all the factories to 100% efficiency, so that we can initialize the final protocol and behold the universe _Ex Machina!_"

"Did he say he loved Christina?" Asked a senile voice.

Several hundred people gulped at the same time.


	11. The Reckoning

For Sonic, it was time to run.

He did not spend the time he needed in the monastery's infirmary. But he has made some new friends. For three days he could barely walk. Fortunately, father Ulnax and the other monks spent most of their time by his bed, talking. They helped him to get caught up on what has happened to the world under Robotnik's reign. They shared they concerns with him. They made plans.

Now it was Sonic's turn to see with his own eyes. He started off with a slow trot, leaving the monastery gates behind. There was desert and desolation all around. Dead ashen lands, with no greens in sight. But he felt there was life. Hiding underground, sheltered in places like the monastery. There were places, he believed, yet untouched by Robotnik's madness. And there were friends. He was sure of it.

A boulder got pushed aside to create an opening. A robed figure peeked out cautiously. It was nothing but a habit at this point. It was always the same vista that had greeted Amy when she got out in the morning. The same view across a desolate desert plains with boulders randomly set around, doing what boulders do, witnessing eternity.

She coughed.

There was something unusual that morning. Some smell that irritated her senses and made her cough. It was the smell of... freshly picked flowers.

Amy looked at her feet. There were blue flowers on the ground. Forget-me-nots.

She sagged to her knees. Her legs were weak for some reason and her head felt dizzy. She did not cry. Amy hugged the flowers and bathed in their scent. She closed her eyes and remembered the world as it used to be. A green lush place, painted under a blue white skies. With days that were sunny and days where the rain would fall down in troves, giving relief to the thirsted earth. Days where violent storms would make her feel alive, as she watched them from a safe haven of a cave or a hole. Her thoughts comforted her, caressed her, relieved her of the duty to wear the world on her shoulders. Sun shine and wind breeze cast a soft touch on her cheeks, stroking her, giving her the blessing of nature itself.

Amy removed her hood and reached back into the cavern to retrieve her mallet. There was work to be done. And she had to be back by dinner.

"Who is it?" Asked the guard robot.

"It is us." Said brother Shemneth, who was holding the reins. The monk sitting next to him put an elbow to his ribs. There came a grunt.

"We are the monks of Mu. We have been summoned by the mighty Dr. Robotnik to witness the event. More importantly, we were asked to supply a celebratory feast, since our culinary skills and expertise are unprovided." Said brother Kermouth.

"You sure mean unpresidented?" Shouted a voice of brother Ititol from further down the procession of carts. It was obvious it's owner was already indulging in some culinary experiment.

"Yes, exactly what I said."

"I am sorry, you are not on the list." Said the guard robot.

"Of course we are not on the list, my friend," explained brother Kermouth patiently. "are chefs, cooks, cleaning people and others usually on the list? You know the people behind the scenes?"

"I am not sure." Admitted the robot.

"Are guard rubbers?" Asked brother Kermouth.

"Guard robbers, you mean?" Shouted brother Ititol from the back.

"Or guard rudders?" Asked brother Shemneth. "Are they on the list?"

"I can't see guard rudders here." Said the robot.

"You see. The most important people are never on the list. The ones that do thinks. The ones that write the history." Said brother Shemneth.

"By baking pies, he means." Shouted brother Ititol.

It was too much for the robot to process. There was an undeniable logic to this.

"You may pass."

Tails moved to open his eyes. Not that it would do him any good. In the pitch black that surrounded him, there was nothing to see. And nothing to hear. Which was the thing that had unsettled tails in the first place. As he was quite sure he had heard something. There it was again. Like a loud distant heartbeat. Too slow for a heart beat in fact. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was his body, finally giving up after years of this life. He stopped feeling his hands a long time ago. Bound to the wall of the cavern with chains for six long years, there was little to feel anymore. Tails was nothing but a shadow by now. There was little fur left on his body. His face was scarred from torture as Robotnik's servant's did all they could to make him spill the beans on Amy's location. But he would not let on. That little victory they could not deny him.

Boom. Another loud sound. Was it his heart? Was he anything but a conscience by now? He could no longer feel his body and given the dark that surrounded him, how would he know the end? How would he tell what was real any more?

The world erupted around him. He could not tell what was going on, but to his ears, accosted to the silence of the cave, the noise was unbearable. It was as if everything was coming apart, as if the land itself ground against its insights. As sudden as it came, it stopped. As his hearing was about to settle down, his eyes were hit by light. Bright bright light, that kept burning through his eyes even when he closed his eyelids. Did he still have his eyelids? He was sure he lost an eye in the torture. Was it the left one or the right? he could not tell.

Someone was approaching. Tails had no power left to talk. To be proud, to be brave. To be anything, really. He just hung from the chains, waiting for the end.

Maybe it was a demon finally coming to claim him. Or an angel, coming to lift him out of the dark. Like in all the tales. But most likely, it was Dr. Robotnik's servants finally coming to make him into a robot. They will do that and make him hunt down their enemies. His friends. He could not understand why they did not do that already.

In two quick strikes, somebody has dealt with the chains. Tails had no power to stand and so he fell. But instead of hitting the ground, he got caught. It was a soft embrace. He felt someone stroke his head and his back.

"It's all right, Tails. You are going home." A voice and by then Tail knew this was it. That he no longer lived. As dead can't talk and he just heard his best friend talk to him. It was nothing like he feared. It wasn't painful. It was beautiful to feel the loving touch of his friend, the caring embrace, a living touch. Tails smiled and let the world slide away.

"Dr. Robotnik! We have an emergency here!" The room was now packed with scientists, working at machines, computers, remote robot controls. Screens around the room were displaying progress, there were numbers, percentages, blueprints of factories and animations of en electrolytic explosion to soon cover the planet.

"What now?" Asked doctor Ivo Robotnik, as he closed the door to the control panel of the Metal Sonic. His favourite creation and personal guard has been fully repaired and operational. And he just initiated it's new programme.

"We have been hit at all facilities that harbor the Chaos Emeralds. We have emergencies and our power outputs are declining. We will not be able to initiate the operation if we don't recover them." The scientist cowered at the reaction.

"Give me some good news!" barked Ivo Robotnik, raising his arm to command his robotic bodyguard.

The scientist's eyes were scanning left and right feverishly, as he was looking for anything that could save his life right now. Any piece of information that might have seemed unimportant that day, but could be made important by this new perspective.

"Our drones have identified a flower in the desert in the morning."

Ivo Robotnik paused for a second.

"A flower? In the desert? How peculiar." He smiled.

Amy knew that involving the kids in this was not the best choice. They were too little and it had been very dangerous. But she could not pull this out alone and she needed to be at different places at the same time. She had tried to keep them away from this for so long and so hard. But it was their future too. It was their future, she corrected herself. And if they did not succeed today, there was no future. No free will.

She rushed back to their hideout, knowing that a second Chaos Emerald is in her pocket. If the kids got the rest, then...

Her heart sank as soon as the hideout came into the view. A giant silhouette of a Metal Hedgehog was easy to make out from the distance. If the kids...

She ran as fast as she never had done in her whole life. As she did, she unbuckled the mallet. It was hard to think clearly, but she knew, she had to destroy the iron thing once and for all. She had almost done it once. She could do it again.

With the full power of her momentum and body weight invested into the strike, Amy hit the metal claw-shoe of her enemy. The mallet broke. That was all.

As with all stories, this story has too to come to an end. We tend to think of stories as good and bad. Striving for a perfect ideal, we often look for a perfect story. We rate them, rank them, filter out those worth our attention and those that are not. Waiting for the perfect story, what we truly do is wishing for our life to turn into that perfect story, so the suffering of being could end, resulting in a nirvana, a state of eternal bliss. Stories are imperfect, though, because at their core, they are experiences of imperfect beings that they share with each other, to not hide or do away with, but to underline the imperfections. To make them more bearable. To break the crust of perfected image of make believe. We create stories in everything we do. And while we see them as histories of success, they are more often histories of victory, dominance, loss, suffering and atrocities. As we have to find strength in our lives to deal with all these. To deal with them and move on. And while most stories may be written by those who are victorious, they are shared, listened to and passed on by those who survive. Chasing success or victory is chasing a concept we have created for ourselves. A fake promise of happiness. But being there, in the midst of days and having the pleasure to look forward to hearing, sharing and experiencing the stories to come, that is the real blessing. The world's worst story can have a moment in it that will touch its audience in an authentic and a personal way. That very moment, the shared experience is what makes it worth to strive and tell stories. Not for glory or fame. For the story is always about the story and never about the storyteller. When this story is told, there will be nothing left of the memory of father Ulnax, brave monks of Mu or the scientists that were made to slave for the psychotic doctor. But we will remember the titans, we will remember Sonic and Amy and their struggle and we will remember there are many other stories about them and in them, about us. And regardless of how many stories we have shared, we will be yearning for more. For it is not how stories end that entices us, but how they begin. And how they show us that despite of how we may feel, there are options beyond what we see at any given time, options that others can see and, in turn, make us see.

Father Ulnax put down the pen. It was a long day and he had more yet to write. But he knew that he will be done with the story soon. He also knew that the moment he will put down the final words, he will think of another story and will be compelled to write it down. Will it be a good one? He shrugged. As long as he will be authentic and honest and will write for the story and not for himself, there will be something to be found. Of course, for those who care to look.

He smiled. He would finish this after the dinner.

"Attention, attention! The dinner is being served!" Announced brother Kermouth loudly, as brother Shemneth was banging a large cowbell.

The scientists looked around, confused.

"But we have not launched the programme yet!" Someone said.

"We would hate for the cottage cheese strawberry dumplings to go cold." Shouted brother Kermouth.

This spurred quite a heated discussion.

"But Dr. Robotnik said to be ready once he returns!" Said the voice of reason in the crowd.

"He did not state exactly when he returns, though, did he?" Asked a perhaps not so senile voice in response?

"The cream on the dumplings is laced with blueberry sauce." Shouted brother Kermouth.

"And there is a hint of apricots as well..." Shouted brother Ititol.

"Just a hint, though, since someone munched almost all the apricots." Noted brother Kermouth quietly with a side glance at brother Ititol.

"But the program is not ready yet. We can eat after it is complete?" The voice of reason argued.

"A fellow academic, with a sense of duty, I see." Shouted brother Kermouth via a loudspeaker. The couple of nearest scientists would faint from the noise if they weren't showered by splutter from brother Kermouth's mouth.  
"But let me ask you this - what if the program does not work and you need to spend the next couple of hours, days even, to fix it? Wouldn' t you wish you had not turned down the roasted turkey with honey baked crust and pear sauce?" Asked brother Kermouth. Brother Ititol remembered there was something he needed to check on in the kitchen and got lost.

It was obvious the crowd was on their side now. Science takes time, as anyone knows, and any good scientist needs to be well provisioned. Some of the more vocal people in the crowd were not turned yet, though!

"Even if we want to do this, if the good doctor comes and sees us away from our posts, what will happen to us, eh?" That made everyone freeze in their tracks. This was not a scientific risk, so they were not inclined to undertake it.

"In that case," shouted brother Kermouth, "we also have this."

Brother Shemneth has pulled a veil from a very complicated looking apparatus. It looked like a cross-breed between a ballista and a very thoughtful wooden puzzle with no solution.

"What is it?" Demanded a voice of reason?

"Ah, that..." Said brother Kermouth.  
"This is The Penetrator, as we call it. Otherwise known as a very complicated device used in binding theological annals, treaties, logbooks, all that stuff. Very thick books, if you ask me."

"But we don't see any book on there." Protested the voice of reason against the evident.

"Well, exactly. And what do you think is going to happen if the bolt goes flying, but hits no book?" Asked brother Kermouth?

"I can say with a level of certainty, that it will continue to fly, albeit with a diminished velocity." Said one voice.

"But technically not as diminished as to make a real difference." Said another.

"So the way I see it," said brother Kermouth. "It is either eat strawberry dumplings till you burst or you participate in an experiment of seeing how many of you can be bound together."

There was zero decision time.

"For science!" Yelled the first man in the white coat, as he lead the charge towards the dining room.

They met at the outskirts of the city.

"Sonic. Welcome back." Dr. Robotnik was clad in an metal exosuit, walking next to his giant creation. Sonic saw that the Metal Hedgehog was larger than ever before. Imprisoned in its clenched arms were the children and Amy.

"Put them down, he said." Ivo Robotnik nodded and the robot followed suit.

Amy and the kids ran towards Sonic. Embracing him with hugs.

"I don't wanna die or be a robot." Cried Polly.

"I told Amy you were coming back to kick their bottoms!" Said Pauline.

"I am sorry." Said Amy. "I had the emeralds, but I fumbled.

They looked into each other's eyes. Despite the years and exhaustion, what they saw has not changed from the last time they were able to do this.

"You did good. I am sorry I took so long. We may not need the emeralds." Said Sonic softly.

Amy stepped aside, pulling the children after her. Sonic measured the metal creation, from head to toe.

"Behold, the perfect species! Tweaked and perfected, this machine is now next to indestructible!" Robotnik stated this as a matter of fact. His robot has confronted Sonic before and cast him into space. With this iteration being better in all regards, there was no thrill in this.

"We will see." Sonic broke into a run, quickly traversing the distance to the giant robot. Then, Metal Sonic kicked.

"Very entertaining, dear, don't you agree?" Commented Ivo Robotnik, as Sonic was thrown high in the air, flew for a couple hundred meters and then landed against a high slope a number of kilometers from them.

"It looks like we are done here."

The kids were silent and looking at the horizon. Amy had difficulty seeing anything. Her eyes were full of tears. The years of hiding, the hoping, the effort to educate these kids. It was all for nothing. All for nothing.

"Look, Sonic is coming back!" Dan shouted.

"Super Sonic!" Cheered Molly.

"Hyper Sonic!" Yelled Molly.

"I don't believe it!" Cursed Ivo Robotnik.

Sonic was running faster now. Faster than ever before. He was running down the slope so steep he was almost falling. He curled into a ball to maximize the speed and minimize friction. He unfurled as soon as he hit the even ground. He felt he could go faster and so he did.

"What was that?" Asked Pauline, pointing out at the high wave of dust that raised, followed by a loud rumble.

"That," said Amy her eyes still wet with tears, "was a sonic boom."

It was impossible to see much of Sonic as he whizzed by. A light blue blur and the absence of the metal giant was all the evidence they had.

"Mister doctor, where is your robot?" Asked Dan?

The world ceased to exist. All that Sonic could feel was speed. Pure speed of the world going past him. And he knew he could go faster still. Much faster than this.

"You know what it is like?" He screamed over his shoulder at the giant figure he dragged behind him.  
"To be torn away from everything you love. To find it all shattered and broken? To find your best friend caged like an animal, half dead, half rotting-alive?"

There was something in the way. A series of objects. All made of iron, metal. Large chimneys, houses, factories, buildings, cranes, machines. Sonic was small enough to avoid them, of course. His passenger wasn't so lucky.

"You know how it is to spend six years running through space, alone? Never knowing if there is going to be anything to come back to?"

Another factory came into the view. The Metal Sonic screeched. It was missing a hand now and was all battered. It was not ready for more.

"Not fast enough for you? Don't worry, I have plenty more where that came from." As they sped up, everything became a haze of a movie that is on fast forward. Buildings, robots, machines, trains, mining facilities, it all appeared before them and ceased to be in their wake. Approaching the speed of light, sonic dragged his eponymous enemy behind him like a rake of destruction, undoing the evil that sapped life out of the land. They had orbited the whole planet several times before they were done.

"Here you go, Ivo, here is your machine." There was a wide furrow in the land that stretched as far as the horizon. It was not easy to break from that kind of speed. Sonic appeared in front of them. In his hand, he had a small piece of what used to be a metal shoe-claw. All that remained of the gigantic creature.

"I... I have to be somewhere." Dr. Robotnik said and started running towards the city.

Amy started after him, but Sonic has placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Let him."

She looked at him questioningly.

"There is not much he can do now. Us, however... We have work to do. I found some grass on the planet. We need to start seeding, if we are to bring the Green Hills back."

"We will help you." Shouted Polly and Molly and Pauline and Dan.

Ivo Robotnik hurried to his main control room, his throne room. He knew what no one else did, that it was, in fact, a convertible space ship. Right now it was time for him to take his leave and regroup. This was a temporary setback. He already defeated Sonic once, he could do it again.

As he got to his throne room, he sat at his chair and hastily started to execute launchcodes via the keyboard.

"Hello Ivo. You should have checked out that the room was empty."

Dr. Robotnik froze. The voice sent shivers down his spine. It was as if someone spoke who was not very well used to speech or using their voice. There was an audible effort in every syllable, every vowel. And it was chilling.

Not far from him, on one of the tables sat a weary figure. Right eye was covered by an eye-patch. One shoulder and half the back were scabbed. One of the two tails was broken and both lacked fur altogether.

"Tails?" Said Dr. Robotnik.

"Indeed. I hope you have time. We have a lot to talk about." Tails fleshed his teeth. This wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation.


End file.
